Last Gun Alchemist

Ezra jumped onto the body of one of the eighteen QF 13-pounders.

His boots landed firmly against the artillery gun while Cognis continued surging through his body, the white Cognis becoming visible in thin streaks that ran across his arms and clothes before flowing outward.

His control immediately spread toward all eighteen artillery guns.

The QF 13-pounders moved.

Their large wheels began rotating rapidly against the platform as Ezra forced the heavy artillery guns forward, their metal frames shaking slightly while they picked up speed.

The sight was strange enough on its own.

These weren’t light firearms floating around Ezra like pistols or rifles.

They were artillery guns.

Large, heavy weapons with wheels that were meant to be positioned before firing.

Yet all eighteen were now moving across the battlefield together under Ezra’s control.

One carried Ezra himself.

The other seventeen spread around him while advancing.

Across the platform, Maxwell calmly stared at the approaching formation.

Ezra.

Eighteen QF 13-pounders.

And the ammunition moving with them.

The excited smile on Maxwell’s face had still not disappeared.

His golden eyes followed Ezra’s movement while his right leg shifted slightly backward.

His grip tightened around the condensed Sun Blade in his hands.

Golden flames moved along the weapon.

Then…

BOOM!

Maxwell dashed forward.

The ground beneath his boots cracked heavily from the force of his acceleration.

Broken pieces of stone were thrown backward, while loose rocks and melting snow water were swept away by the sudden pressure.

The remaining snow around his previous position scattered.

Some of it melted almost immediately from the heat surrounding his body.

Maxwell rapidly shortened the distance between himself and Ezra.

To the ordinary spectators and many Low-ranking Alchemists watching the fight, there wasn’t much else to see.

A golden light flashed across the platform.

That was all.

Maxwell’s Cognis flowed visibly from his body, leaving a golden trail behind him, while the Sun Blade in his hands shone through the blur of his movement.

Some spectators instinctively turned their heads to follow him.

By the time their eyes moved, he had already crossed a large part of the battlefield.

Ezra could follow him.

His plain black eyes remained fixed on Maxwell.

Inside his mind, the battlefield was already sketched out.

Positions.

Directions.

Attack paths.

The movements of his artillery.

And the zone Maxwell was rapidly approaching.

Ezra waited.

Maxwell took another step.

Then another.

He entered the marked-out zone Ezra had already prepared in his inner view.

Ezra immediately stretched his right hand forward.

Seventeen QF 13-pounders responded.

The only one that didn’t turn was the artillery gun Ezra was standing on, which continued rushing forward beneath him like a vehicle.

The other seventeen barrels shifted.

They aimed toward one point.

Maxwell.

Ezra’s fingers moved.

DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!

DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!

Seventeen QF 13-pounders fired.

The platform shook.

Small cracks appeared beneath several of the artillery wheels from the firing force, while a violent rush of wind spread outward from the barrels.

Seventeen 13-pound shells shot through the air.

Their paths were not scattered.

Every shell was moving toward the same pinpoint zone.

Maxwell’s position.

The excited look in Maxwell’s golden eyes sharpened.

Seventeen shells were closing in on him from the moving artillery formation, and the distance between them was disappearing quickly.

He planted his boots against the ground.

Krrrkkk…

The soles dragged across the stone.

Maxwell tightened both hands around the Sun Blade.

Then he swung vertically upward.

Golden light flashed.

A Golden Flame Slash shot from the Sun Blade and tore upward through the air toward the incoming shells.

The heat surrounding the slash was intense enough that faint steam formed in its path as it passed over the wet sections of the battlefield.

The Golden Flame Slash reached the barrage.

BOOM!

One shell exploded.

BOOM!

Another detonated beside it.

Then…

BOOOOOMMMMM!

The explosions merged.

Fire and smoke spread across the space between the two boys.

The first shells struck by the Golden Flame Slash exploded, and those explosions caught several of the shells flying close behind them.

One detonation triggered another.

Then another.

For a moment, the entire path toward Maxwell disappeared behind a thick cloud of smoke and fire.

But not every shell had been destroyed.

A few of the seventeen shells burst out of the smoke.

Maxwell’s eyes caught them immediately.

He moved the Sun Blade again.

The weapon transitioned from the upward swing into a horizontal one without any wasted movement.

His arms turned.

His wrists adjusted.

The Sun Blade cut across the air.

Another Golden Flame Slash shot forward.

It intercepted the remaining 13-pound shells.

More explosions spread through the smoke.

But Maxwell wasn’t done.

Crack!

A small fracture appeared beneath one of his boots.

BOOM!

The ground cracked heavily as Maxwell forced himself into a stronger stance.

Broken rocks jumped from the platform.

Snow water splashed outward, but much of it never reached the ground again.

The heat surrounding Maxwell caused the droplets to evaporate rapidly.

The fallen snow nearby suffered the same fate.

White steam rose.

Within moments, Maxwell’s entire area was becoming covered by it.

Golden light shone through the steam.

Maxwell raised the Sun Blade above him.

More Cognis flowed into the weapon.

The golden glow intensified.

”AHHHHHHH!!!!”

Maxwell shouted.

His arms came down, then moved again.

And again.

The Sun Blade changed directions with each swing.

Vertically downward.

Then diagonally upward.

His wrists twisted.

Horizontally to the right.

His hands changed the angle again.

Diagonally downward.

Vertically upward.

Then horizontally to the left.

The movements connected smoothly.

Maxwell didn’t stop the blade after each slash just to begin another.

Every completed swing carried into the next one, allowing him to change direction with quick movements of his arms and wrists.

Golden Flame Slashes shot from the Sun Blade one after another.

They flew through the battlefield almost like bullets.

And they were heading toward another incoming barrage of 13-pound shells.

Because Ezra had already reloaded.

All of the QF 13-pounders had been reloaded almost at the same time.

Even through the smoke covering Maxwell’s area, Ezra had already aimed them toward his position.

The barrels fired again.

DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!

DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!

The firing force cracked the ground once again.

Wind parted around the barrels.

Another barrage of 13-pound shells flew through the battlefield.

Golden Flame Slashes rushed from the opposite direction.

Ezra’s plain black eyes followed both.

The incoming Golden Flame Slashes.

His own 13-pound shells.

Maxwell’s position.

The artillery guns around him.

And his own path through the battlefield.

Ezra immediately turned his right hand.

The QF 13-pounders responded.

Their wheels changed direction.

Several artillery guns followed Ezra’s movement while the others separated from the formation and moved toward Maxwell’s opposite side.

The once concentrated group began spreading.

Then the two barrages collided.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Explosions erupted across the platform.

Ezra continued moving through them while still standing on the QF 13-pounder beneath his feet.

Smoke rolled past him.

Pieces of shell flew through the air.

Golden light flashed through the dark clouds whenever another Sun Slash passed.

Several Golden Flame Slashes cut through the incoming 13-pound shells almost effortlessly.

The shells exploded.

The slashes continued.

They tore through the smoke and rushed toward Ezra’s previous position.

Ezra was no longer there.

BOOM!

A Golden Flame Slash struck the platform.

The section it touched disintegrated instantly.

Another slash landed nearby.

More of the platform disappeared.

Maxwell shifted his stance.

His golden eyes tracked Ezra’s new direction.

Ezra and the QF 13-pounders were now moving around him instead of continuing straight forward.

Maxwell adjusted the Sun Blade.

He attacked the new position.

Whoosh!

A Golden Flame Slash crossed the battlefield.

Whoosh!

Another followed.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Then more.

The slashes came one after another, changing directions as Maxwell continued following Ezra’s movement.

Ezra’s eyes moved.

One slash was heading directly toward him.

He controlled all eighteen low-artillery guns to continue moving around Maxwell while simultaneously reloading them.

The shells moved under his Cognis control.

The artillery guns moved.

Their wheels turned.

Their barrels adjusted.

His own body remained balanced on one of them.

Then the incoming Golden Flame Slash reached him.

Ezra jumped.

The slash passed beneath his boots.

It struck the QF 13-pounder he had just been standing on.

The golden line passed cleanly through the artillery gun.

For an instant, nothing happened.

Then the QF 13-pounder separated.

Both halves fell onto the platform.

Ezra was already moving.

His Cognis control immediately shifted toward the remaining artillery guns.

The QF 13-pounders changed their paths as more Golden Flame Slashes approached.

One artillery gun turned sharply.

A slash passed through the space in front of its barrel.

Another QF 13-pounder moved away from a second attack.

A third changed direction as a Golden Flame Slash tore across its previous path and struck the ground.

Ezra manipulated every movement with precision.

The remaining QF 13-pounders continued spreading around Maxwell while avoiding the rapid Golden Flame Slashes.

And that was when several High-ranking Alchemists in the arena began looking at Ezra differently.

Some narrowed their eyes.

Others leaned forward slightly.

They weren’t simply watching the artillery.

They were watching what Ezra was doing with his Cognis.

Ezra was only an Adept Alchemist.

Yet he was using Alchemy Levitation to control the movements of low-tier artillery guns that were far heavier than ordinary firearms.

He wasn’t merely lifting them.

He was controlling their movement across the battlefield.

Changing their directions.

Aiming their barrels.

Reloading them.

Keeping track of Maxwell.

Reacting to the Golden Flame Slashes.

And maintaining the artillery formation while the entire battlefield continued changing around him.

That alone demanded a great deal of concentration.

But it wasn’t the only thing Ezra was controlling.

Close to a hundred 13-pound shells were suspended in the air near him.

The heavy ammunition followed his movement under the control of his Cognis, ready to be used for the artillery guns.

For a Gun Alchemist, the amount of multitasking was ridiculous.

It wasn’t simply about having enough Cognis.

Ezra had to divide his attention between every moving part without allowing his control to collapse.

One mistake could cause an artillery gun to move into the path of another.

One delayed reaction could allow Maxwell’s Golden Flame Slashes to destroy several weapons.

One mistake while reloading could ruin the timing of the next barrage.

Yet Ezra continued doing all of it at once.

And he made it look controlled.

Among the spectators, the children watching the Grand First-Year Combat Festival stared at the battlefield with wide eyes.

Some of them had already decided that they would attend the Royal Academy or another Academy once they became old enough.

Others had only recently begun walking their own paths as Alchemists.

They had heard the names of the popular Young Alchemists before.

Vera Ashenlocke.

Diane Bergwyn.

Ravenor Burnwick.

Willow Derlis.

Desmond Derlis.

And many others.

They had heard adults call these people geniuses.

They had heard them called the future of their families.

But hearing those words was different from actually seeing them fight.

Throughout the Grand First-Year Combat Festival, they had watched famous Young Alchemists display exactly why people spoke about them that way.

They had also watched students whom almost nobody knew reveal strength and talent that shocked the entire arena.

Now they were watching Maxwell and Ezra.

One controlled the Golden Flames of the Sun.

The other was moving artillery guns across the battlefield as though they were ordinary firearms.

The children could only stare.

Some leaned forward with their hands gripping the edges of their seats.

Others watched the holographic screens because their eyes couldn’t properly follow everything happening on the actual platform.

A few unconsciously imagined themselves standing down there one day.

Watching these fights made something painfully obvious.

They still had a long way to go.

More training.

More studying.

More control.

More dedication.

If they wanted to reach even a small part of the level their favorite Young Alchemists had already reached, then simply calling themselves talented wouldn’t be enough.

Their eyes continued sparkling with admiration.

Excitement filled their faces as they watched Ezra’s artillery guns continue circling Maxwell.

The Golden Flame Slashes were still cutting across the battlefield.

The QF 13-pounders were still moving.

Smoke and steam continued mixing above the damaged sections of the platform.

Neither Young Alchemist had slowed down.

The spectators waited to see what would happen next between the two of them.

But Ezra’s plain black eyes were already moving across the battlefield.

His artillery had spread around Maxwell.

His ammunition remained suspended under his control.

His Cognis continued surging through him.

And now…

Ezra was about to take the fight to an entirely new level.